


A New Age

by Smokeycut



Category: Earth 2, JSA, Justice Society - Fandom
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, Every tagged character does get focus, None of them are minor parts of the story, Takes place after Earth 2 Society #22
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-25 04:05:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10756353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smokeycut/pseuds/Smokeycut
Summary: After the wonders of Earth 2 have settled into their new lives, they have to confront the wave of villains that rises to meet them. The Justice Society will do whatever it takes to protect their new home.





	1. Issue #1: The Dynamic Duo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arc 1 - Crows

Wayne Manor was quiet at night, the only light coming from the study of the mansion's owner. Helena Wayne, daughter of Batman and Catwoman, one of the first seven wonders, formerly known as Robin and Huntress. She didn't use those names anymore, though. No, she had recently begun calling herself The Batman. And on this particular night, she and John Grayson, the son of a close friend, were in her study, watching the grandfather clock tick slowly. Helena held a book in her hands as she sat at her desk, a brand new copy of _The Big Sleep_ , to be exact. She saw every twist and betrayal coming a mile away, and even had a theory of her own as to who killed the chauffeur, but that was as natural as breathing for the world's greatest detective. John, meanwhile, was sitting in a leather chair far larger than himself, anxiously eyeing the clock and waiting until Helena decided it was time.

"11 O'clock, John. You know the drill," she reminded him without looking up from her book.

"Yeah, I know, aunt Helena. I just really wanna get started," he explained, punching his open hand and grinding it in for emphasis. Nevertheless, they waited until the clock struck 11. 

At that precise moment, Helena bookmarked her book and placed it in a drawer of her desk, stood up, and lifted the head of the Shakespeare bust that sat on the corner of the desk. Hidden beneath the head was a red button, which she pressed, revealing a pair of poles behind the grandfather clock. With a silent nod shared between them, the dynamic duo slid down the poles and entered the cave that lay deep beneath Wayne Manor. It was a large cavern, filled with blinking computer terminals, and a small nuclear reactor was nestled into the far wall, which was used to power their technology. A large computer and a custom black and red bat themed car also sat within the cave, which Helena had dubbed "The Batcave" early in her childhood. Every time she came down here with John, it brought back fond memories of going out on patrol with her parents. Batman, Catwoman and Robin, the terrific trio. 

"Suit up, boy wonder," Helena teased, using her sidekick's least favorite nickname and smirking at the groan it elicited. "Let's get to work."

John's Robin suit, red and green with a yellow cape, attached just below his collar by a circular R emblem, was quickly pulled from it's case, as was Helena's red and black batsuit and leather trench coat. The vigilantes dressed themselves quickly, clipped on their utility belts, put on their masks, and jogged over to the batmobile. John hopped into the passenger seat, slipping through the rolled down window. Helena shook her head in mock exasperation and entered the driver's seat normally. When she saw John like this, it was like looking back in time at her younger self, always eager to get out there and work a case. Loving the thrill of being Robin, the rush you got just from putting on the costume. It was one of the greatest feelings in the world.

"Ready, Robin?" Batman asked, putting the car in drive.

"Ready, Batman!" He cheered. 

And like a rocket, they were off, speeding through the tunnels that connected the cave to Gotham City's streets. As always, the topic of discussion was their current case, this one rather close to completion.

"Who are the Scarecrow Gang?" Batman asked, testing her sidekick.

"A group of criminals that create and sell fear powder. They always wear burlap sacks over their heads, and some of them even fight with sickles or pitchforks," Robin recalled. "They're hard to miss. They look like they just walked off a farm."

"Good. And what is fear powder?" She questioned while they exited the cave's tunnels and came out of a false set of bushes near a hill. Gotham City stood before them, just minutes away.

"A powerful hallucinogen that makes you see your worst fears come to life. Oh, did you figure out that antidote you were working on?"

"Not yet. It's been tricky, and I haven't had much time to work on it," Batman grumbled, frustrated more at herself than anyone else. "Once we figure out who's behind all this, It'll be much easier. Now, who is The Scarecrow?"

"The leader of the Scarecrow Gang. He created the fear powder and taught his men how to use it. We've only seen him once before, and our only real lead is that he's connected to Gotham University in some way."

"And how do we know that?" She prodded.

"The earliest batches of fear powder were created with supplies from Gotham U's chemistry labs," he explained. "And that's where we're headed?"

"Not yet. There's another lab we need to break up," Batman revealed. The batmobile raced down Gotham's streets and made a sharp turn into an alley, nearly hitting a man wearing a burlap mask. Robin threw himself out of the car window, just as the gang member shrieked and jumped on the batmobile's hood, then ran across the roof of the car and leapt off the trunk, into the mouth of the alleyway. Robin took off after him, with Batman not far behind.

"Did he seriously just screech at us?!" Robin asked, bewildered and pulling a birdarang from his belt. He threw it at the scarecrow, only to miss and ding a parked car's mirror instead.

"He also stepped on my windshield!" Batman shouted, taking it as a personal affront. She passed Robin and gained on the criminal, tackling him and knocking him to the ground. She pulled him up and pinned him to the nearest building's wall, where she began an impromptu interrogation.

"Your friends, are they still in the lab?" Batman growled, sneering at him, her face inches from his own.

"Yes! I went out for a smoke when you nearly ran me over!" He was panicking badly, and she was fairly certain he was close to wetting himself. She relented, not wanting to deal with that tonight, and instead handcuffed him and left him there. She tapped a button on her cowl and spoke, seemingly to nobody.

"Oracle, call the police. Let them know there's a scarecrow outside of..." she checked the sign of the building they were in front of, "Sunshine Daycare. Geez, good thing we don't do this stuff during the day. It'd be embarrassing if a five year old saw this," she snarked at the criminal, who was curled up in a fetal position and whimpering.

"Will do, Bats," Dick Grayson, The Oracle, replied. "You hit the lab yet?"

"Just about to. Come on, Robin. Let's go." With that, Batman spun on her heel and marched back to the alleyway, Robin in tow. When they came up to the doorway to the lab, each took a side and stood in silence. 

With a kick from Batman, the door flew off it's hinges and knocked a scarecrow to the ground. She scanned the room in an instant, spotting four more scarecrows, all unarmed. A pistol was on the floor, a foot away from the fallen criminal. Their gunman was already down, just from sheer luck. She kicked the gun towards the corner of the room, away from the scarecrows, then dashed at the nearest one and tackled him with her shoulder. He staggered, but remained standing, and shoved her away. He didn't notice Robin closing the distance until the boy wonder's fist connected with his solar plexus, causing him to crumple, gasping for air.

With two down and three left to go, Batman pulled a bolo from her belt and threw it at the largest of the remaining scarecrows. He dodged it, then rushed at Batman while his two friends went after Robin. Batman somersaulted over her attacker, letting him run into a table. He toppled over it, but stood up quickly, with only a small scratch to show for it. A batarang to the forehead added a gash, and the blood that fell into his eyes obscured his vision enough for Batman to take him out without much resistance. A few more strikes to the head were all it took to put him down for the count.

Meanwhile, Robin faced his attackers head on. He ignited his fists with flaming energy, a leftover gift from his time as one of Ultra Humanites soldiers, and lurched forward, slamming his fists into the scarecrows' chests, sending them flying. He looked to Batman with a wide grin and gestured at the fallen scarecrows. 

"Eh? Eh? How was that?" 

"Good work, Robin. You can celebrate by cuffing them and searching their pockets."

"Aw. _Fine_ ," he groaned, stooping down to do as ordered. While he did so, Batman examined the lab, looking for any evidence of the man behind the men. Both wonder and sidekick came up short, and left the building to be greeted by the Gotham City police. 

"They're inside. One gun, several envelopes of fear powder, all the supplies needed to manufacture more, and a bunch of handcuffed scarecrows," the dark knight growled at detective Renee Montoya while walking back to the batmobile. "You're welcome," she added with a smirk.

"Hey detective Montoya!" Robin greeted cheerfully. "Sorry, can't stay and chat. We gotta go!" He waved at the detective while jogging towards the car. Montoya just sighed and entered the lab, shaking her head and wondering why she was always the one who picked up the mess that wonders left behind. 

Robin slid across the hood of the batmobile, over to the passenger side, and climbed in. Batman sat in the driver's seat again and drove off, setting the GPS for Gotham University. 

"Who are we meeting with?" Robin asked, pressing a button on the dashboard, which causes the glove compartment to rotate, revealing a small hidden computer. "Might as well look'em up on the way. Dig up some dirt."

"Dr. Victor Absonus. He's a teacher at the college who agreed to meet with me. He thinks one of his colleagues may be supplying the scarecrows, might even _be_ The Scarecrow," Batman explained. "And good thinking, by the way. Mom and Dad always told me to vet ally and enemy alike."

Robin nodded, distracted and not really paying attention to his mentor. He was busy pulling up information on Absonus, anything he could find, and all of it pointed towards him being a rather boring man with a passion for teaching psychology. As the batmobile pulled to a stop just outside Gotham University's main hall, Robin looked out the windshield and saw a man matching Absonus' teaching ID. A portly, balding white man with thick glasses and a rather unflattering goatee, which failed to cover the large wart on his cheek. 

"Ah! Batman! Robin as well, I assume?" The man called out, fiddling with his suit and adjusting his glasses. The caped crusader and her boy wonder exited the car and approached their informant calmly, both keeping an eye out for a potential ambush. "I must say, I like the car. The giant bat emblem on the front makes quite a statement."

"Absonus," Batman greeted flatly. "You said you had information on The Scarecrow Gang. What is it?"

"Ah, yes, yes. Of course," he mumbled, adjusting his glasses again. "My colleague, Dr. Jonathan Crane, has been researching the way fear affects the average man for quite some time. A few years now, to be exact. But recently I've noticed him withdrawing, spending more time in the chemistry labs, which is odd, since he doesn't teach chemistry. He teaches psychology, like I do, you see."

"You think Crane could be The Scarecrow?" Batman asked, intrigued. Her father had mentioned knowing a Dr. Crane when she was a child, on the old world, before Fury used the Pandora Vessel to recreate the universe. The possibility of him being a terror on this world was certainly interesting.

"I do. A few of his students have begun avoiding him, skipping classes, that sort of thing. I think he may have been testing his experiments on them. One girl in particular, her name was Abigail O'Shay I believe, ended up dropping out of school. She was one of his grad students. He's a very disturbed man, the exact sort who would dress up like a straw man and peddle dangerous drugs."

"Hh. Thank you, Doctor." Batman turned on her heel and opened the door of the batmobile, then turned back to Absonus. "If you think of anything else, let us know."

"Of course. Have a wonderful night, Batman. I wish you luck," Absonus offered with a nod.

Batman and Robin climbed into the batmobile once more, and pulled off into the night, leaving the serenely smiling professor behind. The night was still young, at least for the vigilantes, and their next stop was the apartment of Dr Jonathan Crane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying my hand at writing more adventurous stories, and this is one of those projects. I thought that the rebooted Earth 2 had a lot of good ideas, but the execution was a mess. Thankfully, the series ended in a way that left it open for better stories to be told, and I'm going to take advantage of that. So here's Earth 2: Society continued. Hope you enjoy.


	2. Issue #2: Crows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arc 1 - Crows

The lights from Gotham's buildings filtered in through the windows of the batmobile like rapidly spinning bars as the dynamic duo drove through the city. It may be past midnight, but the city never slept, not on this world or the old one. Batman looked at Robin and saw that he was still on the dashboard mounted computer, digging through files on their informant, Dr Absonus, and their target, Dr Crane. She wondered to herself what it must be like for him, to only truly remember this world. He was just a child when their old one was lost, and he was rapidly aged to adolescence when they arrived on Telos. He was never allowed to have a childhood, in the most literal sense of the phrase. She had vowed to herself that John would know a better world than the one she grew up in.

"Find anything useful, chum?" She asked, making use of a name that her father loved to tease her with back when she was Robin. The eye roll it elicited made her smile, and she playfully nudged her sidekick's shoulder.

"Aunt Helena..." He groaned. "I think? I dunno, there's some weird stuff going on with Crane's students, like Absonus said. Is it okay if we stop by Arkham at some point tonight? I want to talk to that grad student, Abigail O'Shay."

"Sure. I can drop you off there after we check out Crane's apartment," Batman agreed. She kept her eyes on the road, but her grip on the steering wheel was loose, relaxed. She was confident that it would be the last night Scarecrow plagued her city. No matter how much security Crane had, no matter what tricks he pulled, she could catch him. She _would_ catch him. She would put him in Blackgate before dawn, and her city wouldn't have to live in fear anymore. Not the innocents at least. As they pulled onto Giordano Street, Batman's thoughts progressed to the lessons her parents had taught her as a child. The nature of criminals, superstitious and cowardly, easy to frighten and easy to manipulate. Crane would be no different.

They stopped outside of the apartment complex that Jonathan Crane called his home. It was a decent looking building, not worn down like the buildings in the east end of the city, where Scarecrow's fear powder was most often manufactured. Crane distanced himself from his crimes, Batman noted mentally. He was the type who delivered his orders from afar. The older hero pointed at a third story window, signaling their point of entrance to her partner in crimefighting. Two grappling hooks were fired upwards, piercing the brick wall of the building just above the window. The wonders scaled the side of the building, slid the window open, and slipped inside. 

The apartment was dark, so Robin pulled a small flashlight out of his belt and clicked it on. He began searching the living room for evidence of Crane's involvement with the Scarecrow Gang while his mentor made her way to Crane's bedroom. Something was nagging at Robin as he searched, but he couldn't place it. Crane's laptop was sitting on a coffee table, so the boy wonder turned it on and looked through the files. No passwords or encryption made his job much easier, but all he found was lesson plans and digital cookbooks. Unless they felt like arresting the professor for illegally downloading music, he would need to look elsewhere. Robin made his way over to a cabinet that leaned against the wall of the room and began searching through its drawers. No notes on the recipe for fear powder, but at the back of the drawer he found something else rather damning...

As her sidekick searched for evidence, Batman entered Crane's bedroom silently, taking special care not to make a sound. She approached the doctor's bed and saw that he had his covers pulled up to his bare chest. Crane's dark skinned chest rose and fell steadily, he was fast asleep. He was dressed in dark blue pajamas, the shirt unbuttoned, and his hair was styled in cornrows. His metal rimmed glasses were resting on his bedside table, on top of a thin spiral notebook. Batman circled the bed, making her way over to the notebook, set the glasses aside, and examined the notes. 

_"Abigail has been in Arkham for thirty eight days, and for the first twenty nine her condition worsened. She panicked at the sight of anyone, from doctors to her fellow patients, and especially when she saw me. But these last few days things have changed. Physical contact seems to calm her now, something I discovered when I gently held her by the shoulder a week ago. She's still very obviously filled with anxiety, and some days are worse than others, but she is recovering. I believe that within the next few months, she'll be ready to leave Arkham, maybe even come back to school. Yesterday I was able to talk to her without her panicking. She confided in me that she still has nightmares each night, far worse than the things she sees during her waking hours. Maybe those too will subside. Perhaps my star pupil will recover after all. We'll have to wait and see."_

Batman glared at the man with contempt. The mask he wore and the men he employed kept his own victims from realizing that he was the one who tormented them with horrific visions and nightmares. As she set the notebook back on Crane's bedside table, Robin entered the doorway, his face grim. He held up a burlap mask, just like the one that Scarecrow and his men wore. They had found the terror they spent the last month searching for. Batman grabbed at Crane's bedsheets and pulled them away, throwing them across the room and waking the sleeping man, who bolted upwards.

He looked back and forth, searching for the cause of his disrupted sleep, and as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw the snarling woman who stood above him, dressed in a bat inspired coat and cowl. Immediately, Crane scrambled out of his bed and ran towards the doorway, only to be clotheslined by Robin. Knocked onto his back, Crane held his arms in front of his face, shielding himself from the dynamic duo. Batman grabbed him by his shirt and held him up in the air, then threw him back down on his bed.

"Scarecrow," Batman growled, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. "We finally have you."

"What?! What are you talking about?! Scarecrow? I-I'm _not_ the Scarecrow!" Crane sputtered, crawling backwards. "I'm just a teacher!"

"I saw your notes on Abigail O'Shay. You've been keeping an eye on your first test subject. We found your mask. Don't bother hiding it, Crane." Batman scowled at the doctor, sick of him pretending he was innocent. 

Robin, meanwhile, was staring not at Crane, or at his mentor, but at the mask he had found. Something didn't feel right to the sidekick, something was still nagging at him. If Crane was the Scarecrow, why didn't he have any files related to his plans on his laptop? If Crane was responsible, why didn't he find anything besides the mask? No fear powder, no notes on how to create it, no list of contacts in the criminal underworld...

Robin gripped the mask tight in his hand and ran out the door. He leapt out the window, down to the batmobile, and hopped in the driver's seat. He left Batman behind with Crane, calling out his name, and hoped that they would stay put. There was somewhere he had to be, and someone he had to talk to. He set the GPS for Arkham asylum, had the computer read out Dr Absonus' information aloud, and drove off into the night. The street lights blurred as he raced past them and the night became nothing but an inky flow on the other side of the windows. He gripped the steering wheel tight, his knuckles whitening beneath his gloves and his brow furrowed in concentration. His mind raced to connect the dots but he needed _proof_. The knot in his gut wasn't enough, but maybe Abigail O'Shay would be. He glanced at the burlap mask that had been tossed in the passenger's seat. It had a filter, to protect the wearer from the effects of fear powder, so only their victims would experience the terror the powder inflicted. Whoever Scarecrow really was, he craved the feeling of power over his subjects. It wasn't an experiment, it was torture.

"Robin, what the _hell_ are you doing?!" Batman's voice rang in his ear through the comm device he wore. 

"Something's not right, aunt Helena. Just... trust me, okay? Just trust me." He drove across Westward Bridge and saw Arkham in the distance. There was silence as he drove closer to the asylum. It hung in the air as Robin's heart pounded in his chest. He hoped that his mentor would forgive him, and that he wasn't wrong about this. After what seemed like an eternity, she responded.

"I hope you know what you're doing."

"Me too. Aunt Helena, I need you to do something too. Please, go back to Gotham U. Don't look in Crane's lab, look in _Absonus'_." Robin glanced out the window, at the night's reflection in the water.

"Alright," she said with a sigh. "But when I see you, we're having a serious discussion about explaining plans _before_ stealing my car," she chided.

"Heh, sorry about that." With that, Robin turned off his comm and pulled up to the asylum. He stepped out of the batmobile, and as his cape blew behind him he couldn't help but feel a bit like his mentor and her predecessors. There was a brief crackle of energy in his fist, but it subsided almost as quickly as it came. He hated to admit it, but it was exhilarating operating on his own. But this wasn't the time or place for that giddiness. He needed to talk to Abigail O'Shay.

Back in the city, Batman was climbing into Jonathan Crane's car, a beat up old Chrysler Airflow. The doctor was sitting in the passenger seat, having been released from Batman's handcuffs before they left the building. He rubbed at his wrists as she put the keys in the ignition, and was happy that she at least had the courtesy to let him dress himself before they left. He studied the Dark Knight as she drove back to Gotham University. 

"I didn't do it, I can promise you that." Crane adjusted his glasses and leaned back a bit, trying, and failing, to make himself more comfortable. His anxiety was still present, and lasted as long as Batman was nearby.

"Then why have you been writing about Abigail O'Shay?" She asked pointedly.

"Abigail is my brightest pupil. Even after everything that happened, I can still see that inside of her. I'm just trying to help her recover." He looked down at his hands and scowled. "That monster made her life a living nightmare. All I want is to help her, and all of his other victims." 

"Guess we'll see," she growled. The rest of the ride was endured in silence, only broken by the occasional sound of Crane's nervous coughing. When they arrived at the university, Batman cuffed Crane to the car door, slipped the keys into her utility belt's spare pocket, and made her way to the faculty offices. Picking the locks on the doors was easy as ever, and she quickly found herself in Dr. Absonus' office. 

The room was dark, with the only light coming from the moon, filtering in between the windows' blinders. Batman circled around to the other side of Absonus' desk and picked the locks on the drawers before pulling them open. She pulled a small flashlight from her belt and began sifting through the files that were stored inside. She was halfway through the second drawer's contents when she heard a cough from the doorway.

A man wearing a burlap sack, torn and stitched back together in random spots and with crude eyeholes torn out of it. His shirt and pants were a dirty green and brown, respectively, tied off at the wrists and ankles by rope. Straw poked out of his clothes, adding to the imagery of a scarecrow brought to life. He regarded Batman, head cocked to the side, for just a moment before speaking.

"Hello, Dark Knight," he rasped.

"Absonus. Robin's hunch was right," she thought aloud, shifting to an offensive stance.

" _Wrong!_ " He shouted, pointing a finger at her. "Not Absonus. Not Crane. Though when you're dead and buried, I'll make sure the whole world thinks it was. Of course, I'm getting ahead of myself..."

Scarecrow lunged at Batman, arms outstretched, only for her knee to slam into his face. He fell to the ground, groaning in pain, as the detective stood above him. She sighed, wishing silently that he would have put up more of a fight, only to have her wish granted when a packet of fear powder was flung upwards by the terror. As the powder's effects took hold, visions of Batman's worst nightmares overwhelmed the wonder, and all it would have taken was a few direct hits from Scarecrow to put her down for the count. That's exactly what he did, slamming her head into a metal filing cabinet until she stopped fighting back. The residual powder and the sizable dent that had been left in Absonus' filing cabinet by was the only evidence anyone had been there. Scarecrow dragged her unconscious body away as Robin called over the comms, getting no response from his mentor. 

The last thing she experienced before he slammed her head into the cabinet? Dust billowing around her, debris scattered everywhere, and a pair of red eyes, bursting with energy, staring through her from behind the cloud of dust. Instead of Scarecrow's snarls and grunts, she only heard a set of booming words...

**"Darkseid is"**


	3. Issue #3: Nothing To Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arc 1 - Crows

Robin sat at the foot of Abigail O'Shay's bed, his mask in his hands and his posture as relaxed as he could make it. He had been careful not to scare the young woman, knocking on the door and asking for permission to enter when he first arrived. She was awake to hear it, thankfully. Abigail was always awake this late, as the bags under her eyes indicated. The nightmares were still strong, even though she could mostly keep a brave face during her waking hours.

"So it wasn't doctor Crane who experimented on you, Abigail?" Robin asked gently.

"No. No, Doctor Crane is so nice to me, it wasn't him. Couldn't have been. Scarecrow, he's... he doesn't look like Doctor Crane at all. I didn't see him without the mask but his hands, his hands were white. A-And he was heavier set than Doctor Crane, and shorter. He sounded so creepy..." Abigail curled up in a ball, wrapping her arms tight around her knees and hugging them.

"Sounds like Absonus," Robin said quietly, more to himself than her.

"Speaking of the good Doctor, I did some deeper digging for you," Oracle cut in over the comms. "I heard your conversation with Batman, kiddo. And you're definitely right, Absonus is behind all this, likely has been from the beginning. For starters, Victor Absonus only started existing three years ago. Wouldn't you know, he's a dead ringer for Doctor Hugo Strange, a psychiatrist who had his medical license revoked after he was accused of experimenting on his patients. He's sick, and I'm glad we're getting a chance to take him down."

"Thanks dad." Robin turned to Abigail. "I gotta run, okay? Just know we're gonna stop the terror who did this to you. You'll get justice."

"Thank you," Abigail whispered, hugging Robin before he left. 

He put his mask back on as he hopped into the batmobile, only to hear his father's voice again.

"Robin, I lost contact with Batman."

"Do you think Scarecrow might have gotten her?" Robin asked, pulling up the car's computer again.

"Unfortunately, yes. The possibility of her losing in a fight against another human... Scarecrow's fear powder must be worse than we imagined. Track her GPS, and please John, be careful," Oracle implored.

"I will, dad. Don't worry."

"Just in case, I'm contacting Sergeant Steel. He's in Gotham this week, and I'm gonna send him your way. He'll lend a hand if needed." 

"Okay. Thanks dad." With that, Robin began following his mentor's signal, towards the outskirts of Gotham.

The GPS he was tracking was located inside of Batman's utility belt, just behind the belt buckle. That belt was laying on the hay-littered floor of a barn on Gotham's outskirts. Batman, unmasked and unconscious, was tied to a wooden chair in the center of the room. She blinked her eyes open and looked around, taking in her surroundings and searching for a way out. What she saw were four small metal rods stuck in the ground, positioned on each side of her. Each rod had an orange balloon tied to it, floating above her head. Dead ahead of her stood a man wearing a burlap sack over his face, a loose brown shirt and matching pants, with a floppy hat on his head. 

"Absonus... Scarecrow..." Batman croaked, her head still spinning. She tugged at the ropes binding her wrists, to no avail. He said nothing at first, and instead raised his hand, showing off Batman's cowl. 

"You're not so scary, Ms. Wayne," Scarecrow began. "Just a little girl playing around at night, pretending she's strong, pretending she's fierce. You're not scary, but I know what scares _you_. Right before I conked you on the head, you were whimpering like a frightened child. The big, scary Batgirl, afraid of a monster under her bed. Darkseid, was it? Hah! Did your father read you too many scary stories before bedtime?" 

If only he knew what she did. The terror Darkseid had brought, the lives he took, the world he destroyed. He wasn't just her fear, he was the worst fear of all the wonders. Batman knew it was the most rational fear to have, and so Scarecrow's rant did little more than piss her off. Still, she stayed silent, and endured Scarecrow's ranting.

"Those balloons are filled with fear powder, enough to drive you mad for the rest of your life. Ten times the amount I subjected that student to. With Batman gone, Gotham will be my playground! All I need to do is sprinkle a little powder on any victim I choose, and demand a payout from their family, lest they become my next victims. The police will be powerless to stop me, and all I need to do is offer Crane up as the patsy when they come sniffing."

Batman wasn't paying attention, however. She had closed her eyes and begun working her way through a plan. Use the hidden blades in her mother's gloves to cut the ropes that bound her to the chair, cut the balloons free so they'd drift up to the ceiling, away from where Strange could pop them, grab her belt, then make Strange taste dirt. She just needed to be faster than him, to avoid another dose of fear powder, and she'd be in the clear. 

She had her belt back on in under two seconds. She tackled Scarecrow to the ground, knocking the wind out of him, but she was still dizzy from earlier, and that was just what Scarecrow needed. He had a bit of fear powder hidden in his sleeves, and released it the first chance he got. His mask kept it from affecting him, but Batman got the full dose. Visions of her worst fears clouded her mind, and once again she heard his booming voice. 

" **Obey.** " he said, his voice drilling into her mind. Batman looked down at where Scarecrow should be, beneath her, but instead she saw cracked asphalt. She looked up and saw him. Darkseid. Scattered around his feet were the bodies of her allies, her friends. Karen, Alan, Jay and all the others, limp and lifeless, piled on top of each other like forgotten rag dolls. 

Batman shut her eyes tight and reminded herself that this was wrong, that it wasn't real. Darkseid was gone, his entire existence had been erased along with the old world. The Pandora Casket had seen to that. What was real was beneath her, even if she couldn't see him. Scarecrow needed to be arrested, his reign of terror needed to be stopped. Batman punched blindly at the ground, but the pain she felt and the empty thud she heard told her she had missed. She tried again, and this time felt her fist connect with Scarecrow's body. She smiled and struck again. Again. Again. 

"My name is Bat _man_ , Strange," she said as she punched him again. "I'm not some scared child. I'm your worst nightmare." Two more successive blows connected. It was then that she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Batman, I'm so glad you're okay!" Robin smiled wide, relieved. He looked down and saw Scarecrow beneath his mentor's knee, groaning in pain. "Sergeant Steel is on his way, and so are the police. Don't think they'll be necessary though, huh?"

Batman didn't hear any of what he said, nor did she see her sidekick standing before her. She heard the voice of one of Darkseid's parademons, and thats exactly what she saw when she opened her eyes. Assuming the enemy was in fact one of Scarecrow's goons, she sprang into action.

A quick strike to his hip knocked Robin off guard, and his surprise left him open to the snap kick that followed. Robin fell to the floor and mentally kicked himself for not considering this possibility. Fortunately, what to do when your mentor attacks you in a drug fueled haze was a lesson that Helena had spent a whole weekend drilling him on. Robin began by hooking his leg around Batman's ankle and swept her to the floor. While she was pushing herself back up, Robin flipped over her, towards Scarecrow, and handcuffed the terror. As she turned to face him, Robin held his hands up and prayed that she could see him surrender through the hallucination. 

Batman stared him down, fists raised, but did nothing more. Even in her clouded mind, the parademon was frozen in place, which gave her pause. Her rational mind reasserted control, and she considered the possibilities. Either Scarecrow had a lackey who was surrendering, or Robin had arrived to lend her a hand. When the monster turned it's head and waved at someone in the distance, she figured the answer was obvious. 

Sergeant Steel approached the pair of wonders slowly, already having been briefed on the situation by Robin and Oracle. He helped Robin bring Scarecrow back to the batmobile, while Batman waited inside the barn. It would be a while before the effects of the fear powder wore off, but it was a low dose. She would be fine. Until then, she would rest, though her idea of resting meant training in the batcave for the next week. That and apologizing to Jonathan Crane for trying to arrest him in his own apartment. 

It was a week later that Robin and Batman were at Arkham Asylum, checking on Abigail O'Shay, that they ran into Crane. He was talking to Abigail, and had on a name tag that indicated he now worked at the asylum.

"I started a few days ago. The school wasn't a good fit for me, and here is where I'm needed," Crane told them. "I was already doing more to help Abigail than her old doctor, so they figured I could do some good helping out victims of terrors. Here's hoping, huh?"

"I'm glad. And, again, very sorry," Batman apologized. "I fell for Strange's bullshit, and I should have slowed down and given it more thought." She didn't tell him that Helena Wayne had begun funding Arkham in the hopes of it becoming better than the beldam house it was known to be.

Crane raised his hand to hush her. "It's alright. I'd rather move on, start a new chapter." He looked over to his patient and smiled gently. "Things are getting better each day."

"Is it alright if I visit sometimes?" Robin asked Abigail. 

"Sure," she answered with a smile. "It's nice to get visitors. It's something to look forward to."

"I'll drop by next week then, before patrol!" 

Batman tousled her sidekick's hair and grinned. It was nice seeing him make friends, especially after the childhood he missed. But it was getting late, and Robin had a test at school the next day. His father would kill her if she kept him out too late tonight. He studied in the batmobile on the way back to Dick's apartment, and with her sidekick safe at home, Helena made her way back to Wayne Manor.

Helena, back in her civilian clothes at last, took a seat on the couch in her living room and sipped at a glass of wine. One nice thing about a reborn Earth was the fact that her father's wine cellar was restored, and now she was old enough to enjoy it. She stared wistfully into the glass at the thought of her parents. The world may have been reborn, but they weren't so fortunate. She could still honor them, however. She could still carry on their fight. She would do it for them, and for everyone else who had been lost. And by day, she would do her best to heal Gotham, to make it the place her parents always dreamed it could be. She took another sip and smiled. She wasn't afraid, she was excited.


	4. Issue #4: Welcome To Keystone City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arc 2 - The Rival

**Before.**

The Flash came to a stop and took in the destruction around him. Cars were crumpled, shattered glass blanketed the roads, and the unconscious bodies of sandmen littered the streets of Metropolis. What stood out to him, what _really_ stood out, was that that was the best it had ever been. Civilians stood around, safe and sound. Some were even smiling at him. He couldn't remember the last time civilians had smiled at him in the wake of a fight. He couldn't remember the last time nobody had died. This world, just over an hour old, was already so different from what he knew. But there was one thing he needed to know. Did it extend further than Metropolis?

He ran as fast as he could, as fast as his feet could take him, and he left his friends behind. They could handle the cleanup, but Jay needed to know. Lightning crackled around him as he sped past the city limits. Jay made his way across the country in seconds, and only came to a stop after bursting through the front door of a bungalow in Keystone City.

"Mom!" 

"Jason? I'm in the kitchen," a familiar voice responded from a room away. Jay sped to the kitchen and grinned in relief as his mother's jaw dropped. "Jason? That costume... you were on the news? Metropolis, you were in Metropolis," she stammered. "You were fighting those sandmen."

"All in a day's work, right?" His smile faltered as he remembered that his mother, the one he was raised by, had been erased with the rest of the old world. The woman standing in front of him wasn't the same. Jay's helmet vanished into thin air as he looked at the kitchen floor. Things were different, the way she dressed, the way she wore her hair. The house too. Furniture, the color of the walls, it was all new. He didn't care. His mother, a version of her, was alive. Fury had said that the Pandora Casket's creations were based on your memory, even if they weren't exactly the same as they once were. Things were different, but that didn't mean they were fake. He looked back up at his mother and smiled again.

Mother and son embraced like they hadn't seen each other in centuries. They moved to the living room and sat on the couch, where he told her the story of how he saw Mercury die, fudging the details just a bit, and about his friends. How they wanted to protect the world from people like Ultra Humanite. He explained wonders and terrors, magic and super science, everything that she needed to know. There were things he needed to know as well.

"My memory is a bit fuzzy though. I think it's from getting the powers of Mercury," Jay lied. "So there might be some things I don't remember." He looked over at the bookshelf that leaned against the wall. Resting on one shelf was a photograph of a man in a soldier's uniform, next to a steel helmet with a small wing on each side. 

"Oh. Your father passed away when you were six. He fought in the war," his mother explained wistfully. She looked from the shelf to her son, then back again. She stood up and crossed the room, picking up the helmet and making a decision. She handed it to Jay and smiled gently. "Your father fought to protect the lives of the people he loved. I know you'll make him proud, Jay. Wear his helmet, fight for us. Be our wonder."

The helmet was cool in his hands, but when he placed it on his head it became hot like lightning. It felt right. Jay's magic flowed through it and back, and he knew that this was meant to be. 

**Now.**

Horace Palomino was a rather simple man, and he didn't ask for much. A decent job, an affordable home, and a few friends was all he needed to be happy. It took only a month for him to lose all three. Somewhere between then and now, Horace had decided to make some changes to his life. Very big changes. The biggest change was the oh-so-intelligent idea of barging into his old office building with a semi automatic and taking his former coworkers as hostages.

"Nobody move!" He shouted, with only a hint of trepidation to be found in his voice. "Or I start shooting. You bastards took my life away, and I'm not afraid to take yours!" His eyes darted back and forth, looking for the slightest excuse to open fire.

"Flash, looks like there's a hostage situation at 28 Hayworth Street. Think you can handle it?" Oracle asked over the comms. The Scarlet Speedster was halfway across the city at the time, just finishing helping an old woman carry her groceries to her car.

"I think so," The Flash replied, taking the rifle from Horace's hands. Before the gunman could process what had just happened, he found himself slammed into a cubicle, and made the wise decision not to get up until the police arrested him. Jay merely tipped his helmet and flashed a smile towards the office workers before running off again.

"We don't have anyone else in Keystone and Central this week, so I may need to call you out of work if anything else goes down. Sure you can manage to sneak out if need be?" Oracle asked.

"I can run faster than the speed of light, I think I can pop out without my coworkers noticing," Jay said simply, changing into a dress shirt and slacks before stepping through the doorway of Chambers Labs on the other end of the city. "Now then, let's handle some volatile chemicals."

Chemistry had been Jay's major, back when things were normal. Even after the years that had passed between then and now, the dying deities and alien invasions, destroyed planets and one recreated universe, his passion for science hadn't faltered. Finding work had been surprisingly easy, much simpler than on the world he grew up in. Chambers Laboratories primarily worked in creating drugs for medical usage. The past six months had gone smoothly, though one of his coworkers was always rather secretive about his work. Jay was trying not to press the subject, but that was easier said than done.

"Hey Tyler, how's it going?" Jay asked as he stepped into the lab. 

"Mhm."

"Still working on that cure for affluenza?" Jay joked, setting up his own equipment.

"Sure," Tyler mumbled. 

That was the usual extent of their exchanges. Tyler, who's full name Jay still hadn't learned, was possibly the most reclusive person the speedster had ever met. Considering his friendship with Kendra, that was saying something. As the day went by, it became clear that this wouldn't change, and that Tyler wouldn't open up. He was too focused on the task at hand, just like always. Not that Jay wasn't busy himself.

"Bank robbery at 13 West Ave, Jay. The three dimwits are at it again," Dick called over the comms. 

"Hey, Tyler, I'm gonna hit the can. Cover for me if the boss comes asking?" Jay asked, making his way out of the lab.

"Yeah yeah, you too," Tyler said, still not paying attention as Jay ran off.

 

Bank robberies were something Jay had become well accustomed to handling in the past six months. The so-called three dimwits had given him lots of practice. Inside the bank, two of the masked men were aiming guns at civilians and shaking in their boots. They knew what was coming, they just hoped that this would be their lucky day. Their prayers went unanswered, a fact they discovered when the front doors were pushed open and a red blur flew in from outside. 

"Shit! Shit shit shitshitshitshitshit!" Noddy cried out, firing his gun wildly, following Flash's trail. He didn't realize that Flash was leading his aim away from civilians until his clip ran out. Blinky watched uselessly, and he began to whimper. He watched as Noddy was body slammed, then fell to his knees as The Flash approached him slowly. 

"Blinky, come on. You gotta stop letting these guys drag you into their nonsense" Flash chided.

"Please don't punch me," Blinky requested, looking at the floor.

"I'm not going to punch you. Just lay down and wait till I'm done, alright?" Flash told him.

"Alright."

With the first two dealt with, Flash sped off to the vault, where Winky, the ringleader, was barking orders at the bank teller.

"Open it, you broad!" He shouted, nervous after hearing the gunfire from the other room.

"Now is that any way to talk to a lady?" Flash asked, tapping his foot and leaning against the vault door. Within the blink of an eye, he decked Winky, knocking him flat on his back. He flashed a smile at the bank teller and tipped his helmet, but took a moment to talk before running off. "You alright miss?"

"I'm fine," she looked him up and down and bit her lip. "And so are you. Thank you though, Flash. I just started working here, and nobody told me that our regulars include bank robbers."

"Oh, um, th-thank you?" Jay looked to the side and blushed. "And, yeah, those guys always seem to pop back up here and there. Don't worry though, if you ever need anything, Miss... Vijayrania, just let me know. I'll come running," He offered, glancing at her name tag. He pulled a card with the JSA hotline's number on it, as well as his own, from his pocket, which she accepted quickly.

"Call me Joan," she told him with a smile. "And I will."

"Well, I should get going. See you around!" With another tip of his helmet, he was off. He tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach, but the goofy smile Joan had elicited was sure to stay. Or so he thought. 

The lab was empty when he got back, even though he had barely been gone three minutes. His smile turned to a concerned frown as he looked about the lab. Not only was Tyler gone, but the lab was a mess. Reports and notes were strewn across the floor, all drawers and cabinets were open, and no stone was left unturned. Someone had ransacked the place, but he had no idea what they were looking for. 

And then he felt the force of a truck collide with his side, knocking him across the room. Flash looked up from the floor and saw a figure, grey skinned and wearing a hooded yellow cloak, standing above him. The man cracked his knuckles and sneered down at the fallen wonder.

"You think you can break into my lab and get away with it? I'll show the people of Keystone City what you're really like, Flash. From this day forth, they'll count on Hourman to protect them!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with the second arc of A New Age! For those curious, Joan Vijayrania is indeed a new version of Joan Williams/Joan Garrick. It always bothered me how she was presented in New52, so I'm taking this chance to portray her as something other than a complete jerk. Hope you all enjoy!


	5. Issue #5: The Man Of The Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arc 2 - The Rival

Hourman stood above Flash, cracking his knuckles and sneering. The hourglass that hung from his neck was just beginning to drain, and Flash knew what that signified. He would have to keep Hourman busy for the next hour if he wanted his foe's powers to fade. He didn't have the time for that, so he considered his other options. Thankfully his mind worked faster than most, and Tyler, Rex Tyler, was busy showboating.

"I should have known you were The Flash, Jay. Showing up out of nowhere six months ago, constantly running off... well now I do know. I know just how bad you are."

"What are you talking about? I just got back here, Tyler! I was at the bank," Jay insisted, scanning the room as he stalled. His eyes locked onto the lab's fire extinguisher, and he bolted over to it faster than Hourman could blink.

"And I've been here the entire time! I _saw_ you, Flash. Stealing lab notes, attacking me! You ran off, but now you're back. What, did you think you could kill me? Didn't bank on me being a wonder too, did you?"

Hourman bounded across the room, swinging his fists wildly, only for Flash to dodge each attack. The speedster swung the fire extinguisher once, bashing Hourman upside the head. Before he could swing again, the extinguisher was ripped from his hands by Hourman, and it was tossed across the room. Hourman grabbed Flash by the shoulders and pinned him to the wall with a thud.

"You're finished," Hourman growled. He pulled his head back, then attempted to headbutt his opponent. 

"No, Tyler." Jay phased through Hourman, watching as he put his own head through the wall. "You're going to listen." Flash grabbed Hourman's cloak and pulled him away, throwing him to the floor where Jay had fallen only moments before. 

"I saw you," Hourman began, only to be hushed by Flash.

"I just got here, Rex. I swear on my mother's life, I didn't attack this lab, I _love_ working here. I was stopping a bank robbery, and before that I stopped an office shooting." Flash stepped closer to Hourman slowly, holding his hands up to show he wouldn't attack. "Whatever happened here, I want to understand. If you'll let me, I want to help you find whoever's really at fault."

"If it wasn't you, then who?" Hourman asked, glaring up at Flash, but not pushing to fight again. "Your costume, your powers. Who else could it have been?"

"I don't know, but I promise it wasn't me. Do you trust me?" Flash asked, offering a hand.

"No I don't. But fine," Rex answered, taking the hand and standing up. "You can tag along while I find the bastard who did this and kick his ass. And if it's you, I swear to god I will make you pay."

"Fine by me. Now, if you'll excuse me..." Jay began to speed around the room, fixing the damage that had been done and putting everything back in order. "I like doing a little spring cleaning now and then." He smirked in Rex's direction, only to get a glare in return. 

Hourman checked his hourglass. Seeing that he still had a ways to go before his hour ran out, he began to walk out the door. Flash followed, but stopped him when they were outside the building. 

"What are you going to do to find this fake me? Knock down every door and yell at people until they give you a clue?" Flash asked, half joking.

"Thats the plan," Rex responded, dead serious. He kept moving, clenching his fists, itching for another fight.

"At that point I'd have to bring you in. You do realize that, don't you? Breaking into people's houses and harassing them, thats pretty close to what The Mask did in Gateway City two months back." Flash sped in front of Hourman and poked him in the chest, hoping that drawing a comparison to a terror would put some sense into the new wonder.

"I only have forty five minutes left, what am I supposed to do?!" Hourman asked pointedly. "I need to find him, and get those notes back."

"Fine. Do what you want," Flash replied, disappointment obvious in his tone. "I'll figure out an actual plan to stop this fake Flash." With that said, he sped off on his own, back to his apartment, leaving Hourman on the street corner. 

Jay entered his apartment, setting his helmet down on a shelf on his way in. He ran a hand through his hair and began to think as his costume faded away. His doppelgänger stole lab notes, but not Rex's Miraclo formula. Had they done that, he wouldn't hear the end of it from Rex. Jay paced around the living room, asking himself what a fake Flash would want to steal from the lab. He froze and smacked himself in the head when he realized the obvious answer. The thief stole _his_ notes. Six months worth of research on a more effective cure for chronic myelogenous leukemia. 

"Either you hate cancer patients, or you want the credit, or you thought I was working on something completely different," Jay mused aloud. "Did you think I was working on something related to my powers?" He asked himself, rubbing his chin. He knew that there was no point in using science to analyze his powers. They were divine in nature, a gift from a dying god. He preferred not to think about whether or not that made _him_ a god, but the fact remained. If someone wanted to find a source of super speed, they'd have to look elsewhere. 

"And you did, didn't you? You already have super speed, or else you couldn't have imitated me. Then why steal my notes? Unless... you want to get faster." Jay snapped his fingers as the puzzle pieces fell into place. He knew why, he just needed to know _who_. 

"Oracle?" Jay asked, turning on his comms again. "Can you do some digging for me?"

"Sure thing, Jay. What do you need?" Dick answered from the other end.

"Any accident reports from the past six months, ones that could potentially lead to someone getting powers similar to my own. White men, around my age and build."

"Sounds like somebody has a copycat. I'll see what I can find."

"Thanks Dick. You're a life saver." Jay sat down on his couch and pulled at his tie, loosening it a bit. "I also might have a potential recruit for the JSA. We're working this one together, so I'll let you know how he is by the end of it."

"He pick out a name for himself yet?" Dick asked.

"Hourman. Rex is here too, but it's a new him."

"Oof. Hopefully this one's got a better sense of judgement than the one we knew."

"Yeah, hopefully," Jay agreed, thinking about his brief fight with the newest wonder. He glanced at the clock and saw that Rex's hour was just about up, so he stood up, grabbed his helmet, summoned his costume, and ran out the door. 

He found Hourman standing above an unconscious mugger, handing a woman her purse back. His skin had lost it's grey hue, and had returned to it's normal tan color. He kept his head down and his hood up, so as not to risk his identity. As the woman jogged off, grateful for Hourman's intervention, he turned to face Flash.

"My Miraclo has worn off," he said, stating the obvious. 

"Didn't realize that was what made your skin grey. I thought you just painted your skin," Flash joked. "Find our mystery man?"

"No," Hourman admitted, scratching behind his ear. "You?"

"Not yet, but I'm on the trail. C'mon, let's go somewhere else and talk." Jay said, pointing his thumb at a nearby fire escape. He took hold of Rex, sped him across the street and up to the fire escape, where they sat and relaxed.

"So what is it? What'd you find out?" Rex asked.

"Well, what do we already know? We know he's got super speed. We know he's pretending to be me. We know he broke into the lab where I work and stole something. I know that my notes are missing."

"He's obsessed with you," Rex noted, sitting on the banister.

"Its possible. Personally, I think he's trying to learn from me. I'm the only wonder with super speed like this, so I think he's trying to bring himself up to my level." Jay took his helmet off and spun it in his hands as he spoke.

"Makes sense," Rex agreed. "But it doesn't really matter if we don't know who he is, or where he'll be next."

"I've got a friend working on that part. Until then, you want to patrol together?"

"Can't. I can only fight at full power for one hour a day," Rex admitted with a huff.

"Can't you just take more Miraclo?" Jay asked.

"Nope. It's addictive, Jay. If I take it more than once every 24 hours, I won't be able to stop taking it. Every hour of every day I'd be a grey skinned aggressive powerhouse. Trust me, it's better that I just use it once a day." Jay could hear the worry in Rex's voice, laying just below the surface. Even now, Rex was itching to take another pill. The young speedster put a hand on his coworkers back in a show of sympathy. The small smile Rex offered in return showed that it was appreciated. 

"Alright then. How about a drink instead?" Jay asked, setting his helmet down and standing up.

"Sounds good to me," Rex responded with a grin.

Jay was back with a six pack in less than a second.


	6. Issue #6: Speed Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arc 2 - The Rival

Lightning in a bottle. Ever since he was a boy, Edward Clariss wanted to capture lightning in a bottle. His mother would laugh to herself while he ran out during thunderstorms with an empty jar, hopping up and down, hoping to catch that magic. As he grew older, Edward's fascination with lightning grew, as did his desire to capture things no man could hold. He wanted to capture lightning, to hold it in his hands and feel it's power.

Edward made friends easily, but only a few lasted beyond high school. Only one lasted beyond college. Lucy Henshaw, the brawn to Edward's brains, the pair would joke. She protected Edward throughout their youth, keeping him out of the trouble he'd often find himself stumbling towards in his pursuit of the impossible. As time went on, and as he became more adamant about controlling lightning, Lucy decided that it would be better to help than to slow the inevitable. 

When they saw the news on the day Ultra Humanite was defeated, Edward's ideas didn't seem quite so impossible anymore. There, in Metropolis, was a man with lightning trailing behind him, everywhere he ran. Then that wonder made Keystone his home. The move from Central to Keystone was quick and easy, and as always, Lucy followed Edward. She'd do what needed to be done to keep him safe.

Edward became a man obsessed. For three months, he read every bit of research there was on wonders. Rumors for centuries, fact for just a few months. He would become one of them, he _needed_ to become one of them. Metagenes were one possible avenue. People who had latent abilities, unlocked by some life changing event. Another possibility was technology, creating some sort of super powered suit or gloves that could harness the power he craved. His expertise, however, was in chemistry. He was convinced, given enough time and funding, that he could create a serum that would replicate Flash's powers. 

And he was right. He proved that the day that he burst into Lucy's living room with lightning crackling around his arms and legs. She stared in shock as he laughed triumphantly, playing with the lightning his body created. 

" _Velocity 9_. This is it, Lucy! Nine tries and I've nailed it!" He circled the room several times, burning a trail on the carpet. Lucy didn't care about the carpet, but she did care about what would come next.

"So now what?" She asked over a cup of coffee in the kitchen. It took her half an hour to get him to slow down, so he was getting decaf. 

Edward said nothing at first, but his grin grew more mischievous. He took a sip from his mug, shot Lucy a wink, and gave his answer.

"I get faster." 

They spent a week practicing, but it soon became apparent that Edward couldn't get faster through his own efforts. He couldn't even keep his powers longer than a few hours. Velocity 9 had limits, in power and time, limits that Flash didn't have. As the weeks went on, Edward went further and further down the rabbit hole, and Lucy followed. Flash was absorbed into Edward's obsessions. He wanted Flash's power. He wanted to hold the lightning for longer than just a day. With no money left for his research, he and Alice had to find alternative means of income.

"If I can just find out how he got his powers, I can replicate it!" Edward explained, pacing back and forth. His legs blurred as he sped around the abandoned warehouse they had begun using to practice and experiment. Lucy looked at him silently, her muscular arms folded across her chest. She had set up a small workout station in the corner, and was sitting on a bench by the free weights. 

"I just need to find out who he is, and then I can get the information we need. That's all it takes, right? Then _I_ can be the fastest man alive."

"Alright. So who's The Flash?" Lucy asked. "Shouldn't be too hard to find out, right? He never even bothers to hide his face."

Edward hired a private investigator to find out for him. The man came back with results in less than a month, and Edward had his target. Jason Peter Garrick, employee of Chambers' Labs. Breaking in and stealing Jay's lab notes was quick and easy, but he had no idea that it would cause the partnership between Flash and Hourman. Even if he had, it would have been the furthest thing from his mind.

"Damnit!" Edward roared, flinging one of Lucy's free weights at the far wall of the warehouse. "Nothing! There's jack shit here, Luce! Just bullshit cancer research." 

Lucy stood in the doorway, expressionless as the sun set behind her. As their journey had gone on, she had perfected the stone-faced glare. It was the easiest way to avoid arguing with Edward. If she didn't respond, she wouldn't try telling him to back off, and she wouldn't end up in another screaming match with him. It was getting easier and easier to go along with his schemes. When he first told her of his plan to ransack the lab, she had just nodded and asked what he needed her to do. She felt like that should worry her, but it didn't.

"Maybe we can go back to the drawing board, yeah? Try working on Velocity 10. Make 9 stronger, make it's effects permanent," Edward said, talking more to himself than his friend.

"Can't," Lucy said simply, looking directly at Edward from across the room.

"What?" He asked incredulously, twisting his head and staring at her. "What do you mean we can't, Lucy?!"

"We don't have any more money," she explained as he stepped closer. "The private eye got the last of it. All the rest went towards your research." There was no bitterness in her voice, in spite of the fact that most of the money was her own. It was just a fact.

"Then, well, then we'll find another source of money. We broke in while Flash was stopping that bank robbery, maybe... maybe we can rob one? Or an armored car!"

"We'll need help." Lucy was surprised at herself, though her expression still didn't show it. She felt her heart race slightly at the ideas Edward was proposing. Deep down, she was beginning to enjoy this road they were heading down. 

"You're right. We're gonna need help. This is gonna be great, Luce, just you watch!" Edward laughed and ran towards her, lifting her in an awkward bear hug. "You get the gang together, find people who'll help us! Together, we can be better than Flash!"

"Alright. And what'll you do?" Lucy asked upon being set down. Edward smiled devilishly as he pulled another vial of Velocity 9 out of his pocket and admired it.

"Me? Oh, Lucy, I'm gonna be planning the heist of the century. By the end of the week, not only will be have millions in our pockets, we'll have Flash himself sitting in this warehouse. You and me, Lucy, we're going to find out what makes him tick."

Lucy liked the sound of that.


	7. Issue #7: Best Laid Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arc 2 - The Rival

Jay was growing agitated. He was staring up at the ceiling just above his bed, scowling. He hadn't heard anything about the fake Flash in over a week, and couldn't take his mind off of it. Someone had been copying his abilities, something that shouldn't be possible. He paced around his bedroom in a blur, then tried to distract himself with a Humphrey Bogart marathon, only to give up and bang his head against the wall. The lack of news was killing him, and he knew there wasn't anything he could do in the meantime, which made it worse. Dick's search for metahuman causing accidents had turned up nothing, and Jay couldn't just go barging into people's houses, even if Rex wanted to. Sitting back down on his bed with a huff, Jay pulled out his phone and shot a message to Kendra, hoping she'd be awake in the middle of the night as well. 

**Mercury: Kendra, are you awake?**

**RawkHawk: Unfortunately. Why?**

**Mercury: Copycat is eating at me. Can't sleep. I just don't understand how someone could replicate my powers. They came from Mercury, so unless there's another god with mystical speed, I'm lost.**

**RawkHawk: Do what I do when a terror is getting to me. Imagine yourself braining them with a heavy rock until you feel better.**

**Mercury: You worry me.**

**RawkHawk: Good. Seriously though, Jay, just lay down. Even if you don't fall asleep, it'll help. You need to learn to sit still.**

**Mercury: Alright. Thanks, K.**

Jay flopped down on his bed, staying there for what felt like hours. No matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept turning back to the fact that someone was out there, planning something, and he couldn't do anything to stop them. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed, then looked back to his phone.

**Mercury: How do you sleep? On your stomach? Or can you sleep on your back, even with the wings? Do you need a special rig?**

**RawkHawk: Go to sleep, Jay.**

**RawkHawk: ...I sleep on my stomach.**

•••

Joan Vijayrania stepped into the bank with a smile on her face. It had been a little over a week since the robbery, and there hadn't been a hint of trouble since. Not to mention the fact that she had been keeping in contact with Flash. They hadn't set up a date, but she was going to surprise him after her shift ended with a call, and a plan to grab dinner. Her smile was wiped off her face when the glass doors shattered behind her. She crouched down and covered her head, only getting a few small cuts on her arms and hands. Nothing too bad, yet.

"Everyone down, you know the drill!" A man shouted, his voice muffled by a mask. He stepped around Joan, and when she braved a peek upwards, she saw something that nearly crushed her heart.

The Flash stood above her, a black mask covering his mouth. Aside from that, nothing seemed different to the untrained eye. But Joan knew his voice, and she knew that that wasn't it. 

"We want your money, not your lives, but we won't hesitate to take both," the imposter threatened. Behind him stood a large, muscular woman, who wore a similar black mask over her mouth, and who held a pistol in her hand. She aimed it at Joan, gesturing for the bank teller to stand when she noticed her uniform. The woman said nothing, but she grabbed Joan by the shoulder and led her towards the back of the bank, towards the vault, while the fake Flash ran about and grabbed everyone's wallets and purses, rifling through them for cash.

When they arrived at the vault, the woman stopped Joan. She circled around the teller and blocked the vault door, saying nothing. They stood there for ten seconds, not moving, not speaking. Twenty seconds. Thirty. A minute turned into two. Then he came running in.

The Flash. The real one. In a bolt of lightning he arrived, pinning Lucy Henshaw against the vault door and tearing the gun from her hand. He turned to look at Joan and offered a sympathetic smile.

"We really should stop meeting like this, huh?" He asked. His heart skipped a beat when she cracked a smirk, but Joan quickly became serious again.

"Did you get the fake Flash?" She asked, hopeful. To her dismay, Flash responded with a look of confusion, then of anger. He dropped Lucy and ran back to the bank's main floor in search of his rival.

The instant his foot hit the linoleum of the bank's front room, Flash was hit square in the chest by a lightning punch. His back hit the cool floor with a heavy thud. He tried to stand, only for a red boot to slam down on his chest, keeping him down. He looked up, and saw a man who looked eerily similar to himself, save for the black mask over his mouth.

"Not so fast," the faker said smugly. "We have to wait for your friend..."

"Then you won't have to wait for long!" 

Flash looked up just in time to see Hourman barge through the bank doors and throw himself at the copycat. Yet even with his Miraclo enhanced speed, he wasn't fast enough. The fake Flash dodged Hourman's attack and ripped the belt from his waist, then held it in the air like a trophy he had won.

"Thanks for that, _simpleton_. Now then, do either of you two know what you're up against?" He turned to the crowd of onlookers who watched in fear. "Do ANY OF YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE UP AGAINST?!"

The bank stood still, silent. The man chuckled softly and grinned beneath his mask. 

"As you can clearly see, I'm _not_ your Flash. I'm going to be far greater. I am The Rival! Neither Wonder nor Terror, but the one thing they all live in fear of. I. Am. A god."

While The Rival was busy showboating, Hourman helped Flash to his feet. The pair looked at The Rival and knew that this was their chance. Flash grabbed his helmet, put it back on his head, and vanished in the blink of an eye. Hourman smirked and charged ahead. He rammed his shoulder into The Rival's side, knocking him to the floor. 

" _Idiot!_ " The Rival lashed out, backhanding Hourman and then grabbing him by the cloak. He ran across the room, towards the far wall, and threw Hourman into an ATM, smashing it with the impact of the Wonder's body. The Rival held up the stolen belt and pulled a vial of Miraclo out of it's pocket. Before he could drink it, however, a red and yellow blur plucked it from his hand. 

"Didn't anyone tell you it's not nice to steal?" Flash teased. "First my powers, then my costume, now Hourboy's super 'roids? It's getting to be a bad habit, young man."

"Shut. Up!" The Rival ran to the closest innocent he could find and hid behind the man, holding his hand over the bystander's mouth. "One move and I snap his neck. Don't test me," he seethed.

Flash went pale. Normally a hostage situation was nothing, but when the man could match his speed... 

"Alright. Alright fine," Flash said in a low voice. He raised his hands and stood still, his mind racing for a solution. "What do you want?"

"What I _want_ , is for you to come with me. I want to cut you open and see what makes you tick so damn fast."

"Well thats... gross, frankly. Not gonna happen." Flash glanced quickly at Hourman, hoping his ally had any ideas.

"How about this? We let you and your friend go free, we stay here. Handle this another day," Hourman offered. "And we let these people go about their day without any more problems. Sound like a plan?"

"Yes. A bad one," The Rival shot back with venom in his voice. "No, I'm leaving here with Flash in my possession, or in handcuffs. And if I leave in handcuffs, this poor soul leaves in a bodybag."

"Alright, fine!" Flash shouted, startling Hourman and several anxious bystanders. "I'll follow you out. Just don't hurt anyone."

Hourman looked at Flash with concern, but said nothing. He merely nodded, and when the speedsters ran out the door, he ran back to check on Joan and the unconscious henchwoman. Joan accompanied him back to the foyer, and he brought Lucy with them, leaving her with her hands tied for the police to pick up.

Meanwhile, Flash and The Rival shot out into the streets as though they had been fired from a cannon; loud, fast and destructive. Car alarms went off and windows shattered as the speedsters ran past. Flash was just steps behind The Rival, and he was gaining inches. He could _feel_ The Rival's speed draining, and he saw an opening. A quick sucker punch knocked the Terror to the ground, and from there Flash grabbed him by the leg, and threw him onto the sidewalk like a rag doll. 

"You're slowing down, pal. I can feel it. Your lightning is leaving you, just like it has before. And now you're too slow to escape. Or to stop me from taking this back," Flash said while snatching Hourman's belt away from The Rival. "Your plan is getting nipped in the bud."

"Says you!" The Rival shouted, using one last burst of speed to tackle Flash into the street. He pinned the Wonder to the pavement and held Flash down as he struggled to free himself. The sound of a car's engine was fast approaching, however, so Flash kneed The Rival in the gut and ran back to the bank, dragging the Terror with him out of the car's path.

Flash tossed The Rival down by his unconscious friend upon entering the bank again. Hourman wasted no time in binding his wrists before pulling off The Rival's mask. Any hope of recognizing the man was lost in that moment. Neither one could say they knew the man, or even how he had gotten his powers, brief as they were. 

But there were other matters to attend to. Making sure that the bystanders got home safe, that the police had the security camera footage and eyewitness accounts they'd need to make an arrest, and for Flash, getting a kiss from a certain bank teller. 

"We're going on a date tonight," Joan told him, matter-of-factly.

Flash just nodded his head sheepishly.

•••

Jay walked along the path of Keystone Park with a smile on his face. A light fall breeze was brushing against his skin, and he held Joan's hand in his own as they enjoyed the day together. The sun was just beginning to dip below the clouds, and he suspected that it was just about time for them to head to the jazz club that they had picked out for dinner. But he was in no rush.

"So, Rex is covering your, uh... _shift_ tonight?" Joan asked, with heavy air quotes. She tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear and smiled at a dog that was running along with it's owner.

"Yep. Feels good, having a sidekick. Frees me up to spend time with bank tellers who are way too good for me," Jay said before taking in a breath of fresh air.

"We're going to have to work on that self deprecation of your's, mister. And you're also going to have to tell me the story behind all of that lightning you've got." Joan circled around in front of Jay and poked a finger into his sweater vest. 

"That's a loooong story, honey."

"And it's one you can tell me over a bottle of wine tonight at my place."

"You're the boss," Jay agreed, blushing crimson.

•••

Edward Clariss and Lucy Henshaw sat next to each other in the holding cell, their hands cuffed and all of their belongings confiscated. Lucy looked at Edward silently and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry, Lucy, this is all going to turn out fine," he whispered, just barely loud enough for her to hear it.

"What happened to having Flash in our warehouse by the end of the week?" She asked tersely.

"Plans changed. We're going to wait, and we're going to get the biggest payoff of our lives. Flash did _everything_ he was supposed to do, and Gerry got away with our prize. Now, you and I just have to settle in and relax."

"Whatever you say, boss."

•••

Rex Tyler slipped into his apartment as his skin was turning back to normal, his hour of power ticking through it's last few seconds. He sighed, and tossed his belt over the back of his lounge chair. The apartment was dark, but as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he realized there was a figure in the dark. A man, wearing a hood.

"Buddy, you picked the wrong apartment to bust into," Rex began, cracking his knuckles and preparing for a fight. He slid into a boxing stance, but the man simply raised a hand to stop him before a fight could truly begin.

"I'm not here to fight you, Mr. Tyler. I'm here to make you an offer. One I'm sure you can't refuse."

Rex was too distracted by the uninvited visitor to notice that his belt was missing two vials of Miraclo...


	8. Issue #8: Atomic Wonder

**Before**

Jersey was a mess, and anyone who looked it's way could see it. Ultra Humanite's defeat gave way to a spree of crime as gangs seemingly sprouted from the pavement. Two months in and the Wonders still hadn't sent one of their own to aid the city as it fell into a state of chaos and anarchy. Once, when some ancient beast rose from the water, Green Lantern appeared to battle it, but he left as soon as he came. As far as the people of the city could tell, they had no Wonders looking out for them. So they got to know the new rules of the land. 

Never trust a cop. They were all on someone's payroll. 

Never trust a politician. They were all in someone's pocket, and kept the cops in their own.

When a few gang members strolls into your favorite store and starts extorting the owner, don't bother helping the poor schmuck. All you'll get for your troubles is a bullet in the head.

Never expect a Wonder to help. They're too busy caring about their little pet cities. Metropolis, Gotham, Gateway, Keystone, NYC, but not Jersey.

Al Pratt never liked following rules. Life was too boring if you did, and too many rules were meant to keep the oppressed below the oppressor's heel. Growing up in a world ruled by a psychic albino fascist gorilla taught him that. It also taught him that the best hope for changing the world was to do it yourself. For five years, he stole medical supplies and gave them to the people who needed them, but couldn't afford them. For two months, he stole cash from the gangs, and redistibuted the wealth himself. When Wonders don't notice people crying out for help, someone else will have to. That was the second most recent lesson that life had taught him. The most recent was that he really should wear a mask when fighting crime.

He had started keeping an eye out for the members of Jersey's most powerful gang, Rolf Zimba's crew. Nobody knew who Zimba really was, but that didn't matter much to Al Pratt. What did matter to him was the fact that when Zimba's men were hurting people, nobody but him was going to step in and do something. A yellow hoodie and a blue ski mask had become his only disguise, and over the few weeks he wore it, the makeshift costume became a symbol for people in his neighborhood. A sign that someone was putting his life on the line for you.

His favorite deli was the newest target of his friendly neighborhood gangsters. Three men in vibrant purple suits and ties stepped through the threshold and calmly pulled pistols from their jacket pockets, aiming them at Otis, the elderly owner of the store. One, the tallest of the three, had burn scars across the side of his face. One of his friends wore a white fedora, and the third had a cut along his lip. Al watched in silence from the other end of the deli, the only sound coming from his backpack as it was dropped on the floor.

"Three weeks without paying your dues, old man. Do you really want to keep testing our patience?" the tallest of the gangsters asked, gesturing towards Otis' bruised face.

"I've got your money, don't worry," Otis said quietly, reaching for an envelope on his end of the counter. He kept his eyes low and moved slowly, not wanting to cause any trouble, fearing more for Al's safety than his own. He knew Al well, and he knew the kinds of things that Al did. More than a few of Al's nights had been spent stitching up Otis' cuts and venting about how the gangs should be dealt with. About how they _would_ be dealt with.

"You guys work for Rolf Zimba, right?" Al asked from behind the men. He was digging around in his bag, looking for something, and soon pulling it out. By the time they had turned to look at him, Otis' "protection" money in hand, the ski mask was already covering his face.

"Pfft, the shrimp in the mask thinks he can take us? Don't make me laugh, kid." The leader of the group leveled his gun at Al and put his finger on the trigger. "You're no Wonder, pintsize."

"Damn straight," Al said in turn. He grabbed the leader by the wrist and hurled himself towards the counter, so that when the trigger was pulled, the gun was aimed at the man with the cut on his lip. He crumpled to the ground gasping uselessly as the air was sucked out of his punctured lungs. From there, Al kicked the man with the hat in the knee hard, bringing him down to eye level with the crouching vigilante. The burned man kept struggling with the gun, firing it twice more. One bullet missed, landing in the far wall. The other went through the skull of the man with the hat. Finally, the leader pulled his arm out of Al's grasp, but his gun was tossed in the air by mistake, landing behind the counter. Al stood, and faced him down, his fists clenched and his heart pounding.

"You just killed my friends, you bastard!" the man screamed, his eyes bulging and his veins practically popping out of his skin.

"And you keep hurting my friend. Now come on and give me a fair fight, punk," Al dared, staring the man down.

"No more games, shrimp!" the lone gangster roared, lunging at Al with hands that seemed to glow a sickly green. His fingers wrapped around Al's neck, and no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't slip free. As he began to black out, Al noticed the green glow getting brighter, and that it seemed to come from the man's scars as well as his hands. Finally, just before he blacked out, Al heard another gunshot, and fell to the floor.

********************

**Now**

Al Pratt didn't believe the nurse when she told him that he'd been in a coma for over four months. He couldn't believe it, not until Otis came to thank him and wish him well on his recovery. The whole thing had felt like some kind of fever dream. A man with glowing hands and burn scars would make sense anywhere but Jersey. 

"That guy, the one who was choking you, turns out he used to be one of Humanite's scientists. Took a bad dose of atomic radiation, wound up with super strength and some kinda atomic touch. Weak by Terror standards, but, well... more than enough to kill some kid from Jersey." Otis paused, thinking of what next to say, when Al grabbed him by the arm.

"I heard a gunshot, just before I clocked out. That was you?"

"Yeah. I just... I couldn't sit there and let that bastard kill you, Al. You're a good kid, too good for this city. All those times you'd talk about how we shouldn't take this crap, well, I guess it rubbed off on me. You're infectious, kid. You make people wanna be better. Even people who never met you."

"What do you mean," Al asked, sitting up a bit more in his bed, raising an eyebrow.

"Wonders, kid. Red Tornado, she's a reporter, and she heard about what happened. Flew over here, wrote a story about what a hero you were, and how Jersey needed help. Then the others, all of them, they started focusing more on spreading out, doing their part to help cities outside their normal stomping ground. You should have seen the news the day that Batman brought the old DA in on corruption charges. So much has happened in such a short time. The city's still kind of a hellhole, but the kind we can handle."

Al didn't quite know what to say to that. He had always hoped someone would come and help, and now they were. Because of him. 

"The doctor said it wasn't the strangling that put me in a coma. That it was that guy's powers."

"Sounds about right. Why do you bring it up?"

"No reason, Otis. No reason," Al said, trying not to betray the fact that he felt more powerful than he ever had before. He spent the night mulling over costume ideas.

********************

Al looked down at his hands and took a deep breath. It was his first night out with the new costume. The first real costume. A skintight blue mask with white lenses for him to look through, black combat boots, and body armor that had been painted gold and royal blue, with a white hazard symbol on his chest. It was a gift from a new friend, a very wealthy friend. She had asked him to work with her to fight back against Zimba's gang, since he knew them better than the JSA did. He clenched his fists and took another deep breath, focusing as hard as he could to work past the jitters. He went through the facts one more time before making his move.

He was eight stories above street level. Four cops on Zimba's payroll were handing guns over to eight men in purple pinstripe suits. Eight stories was more than enough to make a splash. He just had to hope that his powers worked right. He took one more breath, cracked his knuckles, and leapt off the roof.

The police car shattered when he stomped on it. All of the dirty cops hit the pavement, and so did three of the gangsters. The rest were easy enough to handle with his new strength.

********************

"Don't do this to me, man! It's almost Christmas!"

"So? What do I care, I'm Jewish."

"C'mon, don't drop me! Wait, wha? I-I thought you were Native?"

"Mom's Onondoga, Dad's Jewish. And _you're_ about to hit the pavement if you don't talk."

Al Pratt held tight to his soon-to-be informant, Paul Logan. An old bully of his from high school, and current member of Rolf Zimba's gang. Paul knew as well as Al that his gang's numbers were in decline, and that Jersey's new Wonder was going to stop at nothing in order to put the nail in their coffin. The snow whirled around them as Paul kicked and struggled, dangling off the ledge of his own apartment building's roof. The cold was bitter, stinging his skin and making him sweat even more. 

"Fine! F-Fine I'll talk!"

"Good." With that, Al tossed Paul behind him, the criminal's face meeting the snow on the rooftop. When he looked up, he was staring directly into the red lenses of Batman's cowl.

"Get talking, Paul," she ordered.

He squealed like a pig.

********************

"This is... This is insane. You're telling me that Mayor Keyes is Rolf Zimba."

"And we have evidence," Al added, smiling wide under his new mask. The new District Attorney stood a head taller than him, looking over the file that Batman and Red Tornado had put together the night before. She tucked a few errant strands of black hair behind her ear so she could get a better look at the proof they had gathered.

"We're about to go and bring him in, if you'd like to join us, Miss Bates," Batman offered.

"You kidding? I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"That makes two of us," Al said with a nod. "Let's cut this beast off at the head."

"Er... you guys really talk like that? Kinda overly dramatic." Ms. Bates asked, looking at Batman.

"Sometimes," Batman admitted. "Just remember to save your best quips for when you're actually bringing the mayor in for questioning."

"Uh, right. Gotcha." Al was glad to be wearing a mask. That way neither woman could see how flustered he was under it.

********************

"You ever been in a fist fight before, Al?" Batman asked, kicking a cop in the ribs and knocking him over an overturned table.

"Lots of times! Just never with superpowers..." he admitted, throwing a punch at the nearest officer. When it connected, there was a loud crackling noise, as Al's fist glowed a bright gold color. The cop went flying into the hallway of the mayor's manor and was knocked out before he hit the floor. Al turned around to look at Batman, only to see another cop on the mayor's payroll, this one aiming a gun at her. Al threw himself at the cop, tackling her to the ground and slamming her head on the floor, dazing her, but not before she fired a shot into his gut. When he stood up, all he saw was a small black mark on his body, and the crumpled bullet rolling on the carpet.

"Lucky you're invulnerable, huh?" Batman said, noticing the bullet.

"Yeah. Really lucky. Being honest, I thought I was just strong." Al breathed a sigh of relief, and wondered for a moment if he had other abilities, ones he didn't know about yet. But he could worry about that later.

"Think of a name yet?" Flash's voice came in over the comms. He was elsewhere, running circles around the building to make sure that nobody escaped. "Because there's one I have in mind..."

"Uh, yeah, actually. I was thinking maybe I could be The Guardian? Well, either that one, or this other one I came up with. It's kind of dumb though."

"What is it?" Flash asked, followed by the sound of someone grunting as he elbowed them in the face.

"The Atom. You know, like atomic energy? Like I said, kind of lame, so I'll probably just use-"

"Go with Atom!" Flash cut in.

"Definitely Atom," Batman agreed with a smirk.

"Oookay, Atom it is."

********************

Shit hit the fan hard. Flash was surrounded by dirty cops, the few good cops were facing off with said dirty cops, the mayor was running towards a helicopter, with Batman and Atom too far behind to catch him. It might have been Al's fault.

Batman threw a bolas at the fleeing crime lord, but was just a moment too late. They wrapped around Keyes' legs just as he hopped inside the helicopter, and they lifted off before the Wonders could catch up.

"Damnit! Flash, where are you?" Batman seethed, pulling out her grapnel and firing it. Unfortunately, the wind the helicopter was whipping up was too much, and she couldn't land her target. Her coat blew behind her and she wished more than anything that Karen was there to lend a helping hand.

"Busy!" There was a hail of bullets on the other end, and she could hardly hear him over it. "Trying to make sure this doesn't end with a pile of bodies. You know, the usual."

"Shit!" She looked up at the escaping helicopter, then at Atom. "Al, I need you to grow! NOW!"

He didn't even think about it. He didn't have to focus, and he didn't have to call up something deep within him. He just acted on instinct, and did as he was told. He grew. From five foot one to eight feet tall. From eight feet to eighteen. Larger and larger, his body filling up with power, until he was towering over everyone and everything. He reached out with a massive hand and grabbed the helicopter. The rotors smashed against his skin and he hardly felt a thing. They snapped like toothpicks against his knuckles. Atom brought it down to the lawn and stripped off the roof, then stared down at the mayor. It was over. And when he looked over to where Flash and the warring police had been, all he saw were miniature people, staring up at him in awe and wonder. _He_ was a Wonder. He was on top of the goddamn world.

********************

"So you mean it? Like, I'm not gonna show up and get my ass kicked by Power Girl?"

"Yes, Al, we mean it. There's a place for you on the JSA." Batman rubbed the bridge of her nose with her finger and thumb, trying not to grow annoyed with the question that had been asked five times over the past two minutes.

The pair looked out over the city's horizon from the roof of the helipad where Batman had parked her Batwing upon her arrival in Jersey. It was still dark out, and the snow was falling gently. Al's mask was in his hands, and Batman was holding her cowl in her's. 

"Can I ask you a question? A different one this time, I swear." he asked.

"You just did. Er, sorry. I've got a bad habit of repeating my dad's old jokes. What is it?"

"How did you know I could turn into a giant?" He looked up at her with expectant eyes. He didn't know what kind of answer to expect, and she could see that clear as day. But she figured he ought to know if he was going to be one of them.

"Because The Atom isn't a new identity, Al. He's existed before. On another world. My world. I grew up on a world that was far worse than this one. A world that suffered a horrible invasion, that was ravaged by war. My world's Al Pratt was a soldier. He died fighting for our world, and he died in vain. Too many Wonders died pointlessly. We couldn't protect our world, so we fled to find a new one. And then we fucked that one up too. Every member of the JSA, except for Sergeant Steel, Hourman and yourself, is one of the sole survivors of our world. One of our own, Fury, used a device to rewind the clock, so to speak. Give us another chance. Another world."

"My world," Al said softly, the information sinking in, changing his perspective of absolutely everything he had ever known.

"Right in one." She smiled softly, and closed her eyes. "We're still not all used to being Wonders, Al. We might look like we know what we're doing, but we don't. Not really. I've been doing this since I was fourteen and I still second guess myself. But we kept tabs on people. Everyone we knew on our world, just in case something happened and their old abilities resurfaced. Thats why we took notice after you fell into that coma. And when Lois looked into your situation, we realized that we were risking our world again. We can't just stay in our personal bubbles, protecting what's ours and nothing else. We need to care about this world, all of it. And with your help, we can do that. We won't fail this world. We can't."

"What was he like?" Al asked, his voice low and quiet. "The other me."

"I didn't really get a chance to know him," Batman admitted. "But from what I heard, he was a bit of a hardass. But he was a good man underneath that. The kind who wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice himself if it meant protecting others. He died fighting."

"That part sounds like me. Dunno if I count as a hardass though..."

The snowfall came to a stop, and the pair pulled their masks back on. With a rush of wind and a flash of lightning, Flash was standing with them. 

"You two mind if I take the rest of the night off?" Al asked. "It's been a long week..."

"Go right ahead," Batman told him. "I'm going to be calling it a night myself, actually. I've got a brunch date tomorrow, and I need my beauty sleep."

"Who with? And why _brunch_?" Flash asked, pulling out his phone and popping in some earbuds.

"That DA, Betty Bates. I got her number while they were arresting Keyes."

"Huh. Well, have fun. I should probably head off myself, actually. It's movie night for me and Joan, and she'll kill me if I'm late again."

"See you around, Jay." 

And with that, the three Wonders parted ways for the night.


	9. Issue #9: Starrware

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arc 3 - Titanic Terror

**Before.**

Karen Starr looked down on Metropolis from behind a glass wall. On the other Earth, the one with a young, bright eyed Supergirl and no Helena at all, she had called this city her home. Her company, Starr Enterprises, had been her pride and joy. She built it from nothing, and she hoped that when she found her way home, the technology she left behind would be used to make that Earth a better place. She knew that she left it in good hands, but she still missed that part of her life. Back home, there was no room for Karen Starr. No room for Starr Enterprises. The world needed wonders, not secret identites. They only wanted Kara Zor L, Power Girl. Even on Telos, life was too unstable, too fragile, too chaotic for that human identity to exist. But after Fury opened the casket, after the memories of the surviving wonders had been pooled together and laid down as the foundation for an entirely new universe, Kara Zor L realized that there was a place for Karen Starr once again. 

Based on the information that Lois had dug up on their lives in the new world, Karen had been some kind of teen tech wizard. She had made a name for herself by creating cheap hologram projectors at the age of 14, and releasing the patent so that anyone could replicate them. Karen realized upon reading the years old news article that it must have been something the Pandora Casket pulled from her own mind when reality was being rebuilt. She had drawn up plans for those very same projectors during their time on Telos, but never had a chance to make them a reality. But on this world, this "Earth 2" as Dick called it, her creations were a part of her history. A history she could imagine, but not remember. A life she was picking up at the age of 23. She didn't have a company on this world, but she had money. Enough money to start over and to try again.

And so there she was, standing in her new office, getting ready to interview another potential employee. She had already hired on several people, all experts in their fields. A few names and faces were identical to people she had met on that other world, and she was excited to work with her world's versions of them. Getting another chance to see them flourish. But as the day went on, and as the golden sun dipped closer and closer towards the horizon, she began longing for the comfort of her apartment. Setting things up was always her least favorite part of projects like these. The payoff, the moment that things came together and worked like they were meant to, that was always her favorite thing. Once they were ready to get into the thick of it and start creating, she would be able to look forward to work each day. As she was, she just wanted to curl up on the couch with her new cat and see if this rebooted world had late night monster movies on tv. _One more interview_ , she told herself. Just one more. She hoped it would be quick.

"Starrware Labs is going to change more that just this city. It's going to change the world," Karen said, turning around to face the man on the other side of her desk. He looked a bit odd, she thought, with a mop of greasy red hair on his head and a pair of intense green eyes that practically bored into her. He tugged at the sleeve of his green checkered suit as she peered down at him. 

"Then it sounds like the perfect place for me," he said. Karen could feel the edge in his voice, an icyness to it that she didn't like. "Ever since I was a child, all I wanted was to change this world, Miss Starr. I think we could work wonders together."

Karen said nothing in response, instead sparing a glance at the files that were laying open on her desk. She had spent the night before looking them over, studying the schematics within. They were her guest's designs, the same ones he was pitching to her at that very moment.

"I'm not sure we have the same idea of _how_ the world should be changed, Mr Luthor." Karen gestured towards the schematics. "These are weapon designs, and I have no plans to become a defense contractor."

"What? I don't think you understand, Miss Starr. With the Ultra Humanite out of power, this world needs weapons now more than ever. My designs would ensure that nobody like him comes to power again, that only truly powerful men control the fate of this world. Your lab needs me, and it needs my designs."

"I'm fairly certain that the new World Army is going to make sure we don't get any more Humanites," Karen said with a glare. "Starrware is looking to make this a safer, brighter world. If you're on board with that, and listen to me when I say you should scrap these designs, then there's a place in this lab for you. If not... well, you know where the door is."

"We both know that this World Army idea is a joke! They can't protect this world, but people like _us_ can! Men and women of science, who are willing to do away with childish notions of peace on Earth without a firm hand in charge. We need weapons, and I can create them. You could too if you'd just listen to me!" Luthor slammed his fist down on her desk, but Karen showed no signs of being startled. She merely raised an eyebrow and waited for him to finish ranting.

"Indestructible solar panels. Prosthetic limbs that function identically to the real thing. Nanomachines that can repair broken technology so people don't have to worry about being able to afford a replacement. Those are the kinds of things we're creating here, Mr Luthor. Go pitch your weapons to someone else, because there's no way on _Earth_ I'm going to help you make them. Now get out, before I throw you out." 

Karen's eyes narrowed with the last threat, but she had no need to go further than that. Luthor knew full well that she could make good on the threat just by looking at the difference in their builds. She was a good foot taller than him, and while he wasn't aware of her extraterrestrial origin, he was more than aware of how muscular she was. He was no idiot, but he was certainly a coward, and that winning combination led him to the door, weapon schematics in hand, before Karen had to get physical. He slammed the door on his way out, shouting something about how he'd show her one day. How he'd show them all. 

She called Oracle and told him to keep tabs on Luthor. She didn't need the headache of worrying about some potential nutjob with a passion for ray guns. Not when she had a cat to feed, ice cream to eat and monster movies to watch.

********************

**Now.**

Karen walked through the hallway of Starrware, towards one of the labs, with a bluetooth on her ear and a grin on her face. She had just received word from Henry that they were making good progress on the interdimensional transporter device she had tasked his team with building. She had helped them draw up the schematics, based on the tech that brought her and Helena back home after they had been trapped on that other world. Just in case the JSA was ever needed to lend the Justice League a hand, or vice versa. After that, she had gotten news from Oracle, who told her about the JSA's newest recruit, The Atom. She was looking forward to seeing who was stronger between the two of them at the next JSA meeting. And on top of all that, she had just gotten a call from Lois, asking her if she wanted to grab dinner that night.

"Sounds like a plan," Karen told her. "I'm almost done at work, so I'll be free soon. Where are you thinking? We could go to Bibbo's, that was always one of Dad's favorites."

"Works for me," Lois said on the other end of the line. "See you there, sweetie. I love you."

"Love you too, Mama."

She turned off her bluetooth and entered the mostly empty lab, making her way over to one of her employees, a young woman by the name of Natasha. Everyone else had gone home for the day, but Natasha had called Karen down with urgent news, something she couldn't tell her over the phone.

"What did you need to show me in such a hurry, Nat?" Karen asked as she made her way over to her.

"Actually, Miss Starr, it was _I_ who wanted to speak with you. Natasha here was just acting as a proxy, under threat of her life. You know how it is."

Karen recognized the voice immediately. The cold smarminess that gave the impression of a snake in human form. There really weren't many better ways to describe the person speaking, in all honesty. She turned to look at Lex Luthor as he seemed to materialize out of thin air with a click of his fingers. The belt he wore, bulky yet highly advanced, had kept him invisible to the normal eye while she walked into his little trap. Karen seethed, cursing herself for not scanning the room with her X-Ray vision before entering. She just knew that Helena would give her an "I told you so" speech when she found out about this. In Luthor's hand was one of his energy gun prototypes, aimed directly at Natasha.

"Luthor." Karen clenched her fists tight, forcing herself not to turn him into paste. She couldn't risk him hurting Natasha, or outing her secret identity by using her powers. If it came down to one of the two though, her secret was a small price to pay in exchange for Nat's safety. But that didn't mean she couldn't have both. She just had to be smart about what she did. "What the hell are you doing here?" she asked.

"Well, I came here to grab a few things, just some odds and ends for my own experiments, when your young labrat caught me in the act. I figured what the hell, why not use this as an opportunity to get a little revenge on the woman who denied me all those months ago? Now then, please feel free to beg for mercy while I sizzle your brain," Luthor said as he turned his gun on Karen.

"Just take what you came for and leave, Luthor. You kill me and your prison sentence will just go up, not to mention the fact that the JSA will be gunning for you even harder than they already are." Karen saw a slight hesitation in Luthor as he processed what she said. Nobody outside of the JSA knew she was Power Girl, but Lois' identity as Red Arrow was public knowledge, which made Karen Starr the daughter of a JSA member. Killing her would be one of the worst decisions that Luthor could make, and they both knew it.

"True. But I've already got more than enough dead bodies attached to my name to give me life in prison," Luthor told her with a vile grin. "And with what I'm planning, the JSA won't be able to do anything to stop me. Not even those alien scum." Luthor stepped closer to Karen, closing the distance between them. The smell of his cheap cologne was almost as sickening as his personality, but getting closer was just the mistake Karen was looking to exploit.

She headbutted Luthor, just a light tap, weak enough to stun him without doing any serious damage. As he reeled, she pulled the gun from his hand and threw it across the room, crushing it with her super powered grip in her haste. Rather than look up at her again, or try to fight, Luthor snapped his fingers, reactivating his invisibility belt. Karen, in turn, used her X-Ray vision to track him. She told Natasha to call the police and get to safety, and ran after Luthor. In the empty hallway, with Luthor looking ahead rather than behind, Karen ripped open her suit to show the S shield beneath it. She tossed her clothes in a broom closet as she chased Luthor out the lab's back door. But before she could grab him, he vanished completely, with a shimmer of purple light. Not even her X-Ray vision could detect him. 

"Teleportation. Of fucking course," Power Girl groaned. Dinner with her mother couldn't come soon enough.


End file.
